The Breeding Chamber Ch. 03

Chapter Three -- Welcome Home

Pope Durden

Pope Durden had a beatific smile on his face. He was standing in the vault at his private estate, the City Commissioner's Residence, surveying the rows of gold. The opulence of the yellow precious metal caused him to become concupiscent. No breeder, no matter how pretty, could arouse him as much as the splendour of those stacked bars.

Of course it was because of pretty breeders that he had his pile of gold.

Other city states had risen from the ashes of the SARS X pandemic which was the catalyst for World War Three and the civil wars that followed and finally the total breakdown of civilisation. Most of them squandered their most valuable resource: women and girls. With only one percent of women surviving the SARS X pandemic they were a scarce and valuable commodity but men are men and their appetites are ravenous.

In most of the cities that sprang up out of the chaos, those men who were the strongest or established themselves as leaders kept the few remaining women to themselves. The women were fought over; squabbles and outright wars were contested over their ownership. The result usually being that the women were kept as chattels by individuals or shared amongst the powerful few who soon exhausted them by overuse.

Justin Durden however had the foresight to develop the breeding program with the view to eventually bringing Durden City's population back to an equilibrium between the sexes and he had the ingenuity to devise the Comfort Girl program to keep the male population sated sexually until there was a big enough pool of women to integrate them back into society.

When Justin's son, Steven Durden, inherited his father's title as City Commissioner he had already decided that women and girls were too valuable a resource to be shared with the masses. He'd already engaged with his counterparts in the other city states who were eager to purchase women and girls.

By the time Michael Durden inherited his father's title the illegal trade in women was already well established but Michael optimised the trade and ensured that it was kept secret. He increased the number of Comfort Girls and lowered the price of their services to make them freely available. He pressured his Commissioner for communications and entertainment to create content that would appeal to a population that was almost exclusively male. Bloodbaths like 'Gladiators -- Fight to the Death' and 'Death Race' appealed to their masculine competitiveness and their predilection for violence and shows like 'The Mating Game' and 'Bang Her - Rate Her' appealed to their lasciviousness.

Sex and violence kept the population placated.

He was such a successful City Commissioner that someone had once commented that Michael was more powerful than the Pope had ever been and the nickname 'Pope' stuck and Michael condoned and encouraged its use.

Pope was living on easy street; the only pain in his ass was the constant raids by the so called Revolutionaries. The few Revolutionaries that had been taken alive had refused to talk despite the torture and his City Guard scouts had failed to locate their base; that is if they even had one. The citizens of Durden City were told that the Revolutionaries were just a bunch of semi-organised rabble roaming the Badlands but Pope suspected otherwise.

Now they had pulled off their most audacious raid yet. They had raided the television studio at the Visual and Audio Streaming Complex and killed a number of City Guards and that pompous ass Mike Melody and taken Pope's paramour Victoria Eglin and some nearly washed up Comfort Girl. Pope would like to think that the raid was opportunist; that the Revolutionaries aim was to disrupt communications and take down the streaming services for a while. That on finding Victoria and the Comfort Girl, the Revolutionaries had considered their selves lucky and took the women with them as prizes.

But Pope didn't believe in coincidences. He couldn't give a flying fuck about the Comfort Girl; the Revolutionaries could fuck her brains out and dump her in the Badlands as far he was concerned; they could always make more Comfort Girls. They could rape Victoria to their heats content too. She was past breeding age and although he enjoyed her company, there plenty of other breeders to choose from and Silvia Cornish would make an ideal replacement for Victoria both in bed and as co- conspirator in his illegal enterprises.

But Victoria knew all about Pope's illegal activities, trading girls for gold. If word got out, no amount of adoration by the populous and loyalty from the Commission would prevent the people of the city rising up and stringing him up by his neck. Pope promised his people that one day there would be a woman for every man. That day might not come soon but it would come. But if the citizens found out that that day would never come because he was selling girls for gold, the populous would tear him apart; not even his Praetorian Guard could save him.

Pope closed and locked his vault, put on his dress uniform and gold sash and went outside his mansion where his escort awaited to take him to the Commission meeting. He returned the salute as his driver opened the door to his armoured limousine and climbed into it, then he checked for messages on his phone. Today the City Commissioner attend the meeting as Colonel Durden, Commander of the City Guard and he would assure the Commission that revenge would be enacted on those who had the audacity to attack, kill and kidnap the citizens of Durden City.

Pope would also offer his condolences and vow to take revenge for the assassination of fellow Commissioner and good friend Harlan Cooter. He smiled at the duplicity and hypocrisy of such a vow. His smile widened as he realised that shutting up Harlan Cooter for good could not have come at a more convenient time: Cooter's assassination was easily blamed on the Revolutionaries and Harlan would no longer be asking inconvenient questions about the progress of the breeding program.

As the convoy sped away from the City Commissioner's residence towards the centre of Durden City, Pope Durden sipped mineral water and revised his address to the Commission.

Madeline Smith and Virgil Benning

Virgil led Madeline back out through the ops centre, along the underground corridor and up into the fresh air of Freetown. Every man they passed did a double-take and stared at Madeline. Their Commander was a woman, a true female, and now they were confronted with another woman wearing a trooper's uniform.

"What am I going to do with you?" Virgil finally broke the silence when they stopped outside the large mess hall, the sound of muffled gunfire coming from the distance.

"I think I know," Madeline gave him a cheeky grin.

"Besides that I mean. I told the Commander that you would earn your keep. You heard what she said: If you're going to wear that uniform you better earn it," Virgil quoted Susan.

"I do look pretty good in it don't I?" Madeline smiled cheekily.

"So I had better earn it hadn't I. What's that noise?" she asked pointing with her chin to where the noise of the gunfire was coming from.

"Some of the troopers are conducting weapons practice," Virgil answered.

Madeline pointed at Virgil's sidearm.

"How hard is it to use one of those things?" Madeline asked.

"Not hard at all. You simply point it at the thing you want to shoot and then you pull the trigger," Virgil smiled at her roguishly.

"All right. Let's go do that then," Madeline said matter-of-factly.

"You're joking," Virgil scoffed.

"I'm not washing dishes, I'm not doing laundry and my Comfort Girl days are over. So I guess I'm going to be a trooper now," Madeline dropped her rucksack and put her hands on her hips.

"Don't you want to see your quarters and change into something else?" Virgil countered.

"No, because I'm guessing that once you get me into your quarters and I start getting changed you're going to get ideas and that will be that for the evening. Take me to the range, teach me how to shoot that thing and afterwards I'll change into something nice and teach you a thing or two," Madeline gripped the front of his combat jacket and pulled Virgil in close.

He tried to kiss her and she pushed him away. She was stronger than she looked; her regular exercise routine had forged hard muscle under those feminine curves.

"We do that after. Let's go," she leaned down and picked up the rucksack and strode off in the dust towards the sounds of gunfire.

Virgil admired her ass in the tight-fitting dungarees for a while and then he followed her. He caught up with her and began to explain range safety and etiquette to her.

Madeline surprised both herself and Virgil when she displayed proficiency with the SIG Sauer M17 pistol, and although not as proficient, she was also handy with the M4 carbine.

"Shooting targets doesn't make you a soldier Madeline," Virgil cautioned.

"I didn't say it did but it's a start, now where are these quarters?" Madeline asked brushing dust off her combat uniform.

"Let's drop by the store and see if they have any more uniforms in your size. You can't keep wearing that," Virgil countered.

"And I can hardly wear the clothes I was wearing when you brought me here," Madeline added.

"I actually have an idea about that but let's not get ahead of ourselves," Virgil grinned at Madeline and led her to the equivalent of Freetown's Post Exchange.

As much as he would have liked to do so Virgil did not show Madeline any public displays of affection. He was well aware of what the Commander had inferred about the other troopers becoming jealous. He did have to order some of the men to back off when they realised that Madeline was a woman under those combat fatigues but the men were more curious than they were threatening.

In the Post Exchange they found a mishmash of Army Combat Uniform, some scrounged from army surplus stores but many items were patched and repaired uniforms taken from City Guards killed in battle. Madeline realised that the Revolutionaries were involved in more action with City Guards than just the skirmishes within Durden City that made the news.

They managed to put together four complete uniforms, a set of combat webbing and another pair of boots then Virgil took Madeline to the armoury where he issued her a SIG Sauer M17 and an M4 carbine and ammunition for both.

"Become familiar with carrying and caring for those weapons. I'll teach you how to disassemble, clean and reassemble them. We wear sidearms inside Freetown. We keep our rifles handy but only usually carry them outside the compound. If the City Guard ever find this place we are likely to be attacked with little notice," Virgil explained.

He took Madeline back to his quarters. The Freetown troopers lived in barracks comprising ISO containers arranged in long lines with a dirt road between them. Stacked three high, the upper intermodal containers were accessed by steel stairs welded to the side. Officers and NCOs had their own containers; troopers shared their quarters two to a container.

Madeline was surprised when she entered the Virgil's quarters through a door cut into the metal side. The floor and walls were lined with marine grade plywood and there were some throw rugs scattered around and prints mounted on the wall in an attempt to make the place appear homely. Power and running water were supplied but the wiring was rudimentary as was the ventilation but at least the water was warm. A modular shower and sink were rigged in one corner and double bed with a single side table was pushed into the other. Mismatched furniture provided some basic comfort.

"We scavenge what we can from the Badlands and in Odessa," Virgil explained.

"Most of the stores were picked clean after the civil war but sometimes there are a few treasures to be found," Virgil put their weapons in a rack near the door and began removing his webbing and uniform.

"I'm going to take a shower but you can go first," he nodded at the shower stall.

"Ok, but where do I go to the toilet?" Madeline asked.

"Well that might be a problem. There are latrines, well I guess they are porta potties really, located at the end of each barrack line," Virgil shrugged his shoulders.

"Well I need to go," Madeline stood, feet apart with her hands on her hips, a little defiantly.

"Word will have gotten out by now that you are here. Major Brody will have made it clear to the men that there will be dire consequences if any of them touch you," Virgil shrugged.

"Except for Leon and Spliff who fucked me in the ops centre barracks," Madeline spat, her anger returning.

"That was then. This is now and it beats the alternative. You need to get over it," Virgil shrugged his shoulders again.

Madeline stormed off and found the line of latrines and did her business. She was stared at but no one gave her grief. She returned to find Virgil freshly showered and wearing a towel. He threw another towel at her.

"Mi casa es su casa," he grinned at her and Madeline couldn't help but smile back at him.

She stripped down to her cotton briefs and slipped into the shower, covering her genitals with her hand but Virgil had deliberately turned away. She soaped away the grim from the range, rinsed and put on fresh cotton briefs and pyjamas, courtesy of the Post Exchange. She brushed her teeth and was suddenly exhausted.

She fell on the bed and was asleep in seconds.

Virgil was kind of grateful. Despite Madeline's promise of more sex he was bushed too. He climbed onto the bed, turned his back to Madeline and was soon asleep. Sometime during the night Madeline rolled over and snuggled up to him. It was the first time for both of them that had actually slept with another person and it was comforting.

Susan Solister and Billy Brody

The Commander didn't live in a shipping container. When Susan Solister had founded Freetown the Troopers had built her a prefabricated two bedroom cottage in the middle of Freetown and even put in a small garden and installed a white picket fence around it.

Their enemies in Durden City called them Revolutionaries but they called themselves freedom fighters. The majority of the residents of Freetown were soldiers and referred to themselves as Troopers. When Susan Solister became their Commander she protested when the men began to build her the cottage telling Billy Brody, her second in command, that she wanted to live just like the troops she commanded; she didn't want any luxuries.

Billy told Susan that a commander didn't live with the troops. He went on to explain that command is a solitary commission. There will always be trusted advisors but in the end the men wanted a leader; someone to look up to and that person should always stand apart from the men they commanded. Brody called it the loneliness of command: being ultimately responsible for everything and everyone in Freetown, responsible for every strategic decision, responsible for their victories and their defeats.

So Susan reluctantly agreed to live in the Commander's quarters. There was also the reality that she was the only woman in Freetown and although she demanded and received respect from the Troopers she commanded, she needed to acknowledge that temptation can sometimes overcome propriety. It was well known in Freetown that Billy Brody shared Susan's bed but in public he was her loyal second in command and even had his own quarters nearby.

Victoria Eglin had been installed in those quarters comprising two ISO containers joined together which included such luxuries as an ensuite bathroom and hot water. Two armed guards stood outside Billy's quarters whilst inside Victoria showered and dressed for dinner. Susan had loaned her some clothes and some makeup.

Meanwhile in the bathroom of the Commander's cottage, Susan Solister leaned over the vanity so that she could see better as she applied her mascara. She was freshly showered dressed in sheer-to-the-waist flesh-toned pantyhose with black high-waisted, seamless, nylon panties over them, hugging her pert buttocks. Her small breasts were cupped in a matching bra; her feet shod in white four-inch pumps. The green satin dress she would wear to dinner was laid out on the bed, ready to slip into.

Billy Brody, naked except for a towel around his waist, stood beside her finishing his shave, looking in the same mirror that Susan was using to put on her makeup.

"Can we trust her?" Billy asked, running the blade across the remaining lather on his neck.

"I think we can," Susan didn't look at him; she was trying to get her lashes perfect.

"She's Pope Durden's whore," Billy rinsed the razor under the hot tap.

"Reluctantly. Victoria hates him," Susan replied.

"So she says but she fucks him," Billy put down the razor and turned to face Susan.

"You fuck me but you still do what you're told when I tell you to," Susan smiled into the mirror.

"Because I respect you as a leader," Billy replied curtly.

"And?" Susan deliberately leaned over closer to the mirror so that her ass stuck out and she wriggled it seductively just a little.

"And, I love you as a woman," Billy replied, his voice thick and guttural.

He dropped his towel and moved in behind Susan Solister and nestled his burgeoning erection in her ass crack, rubbing it against her panty-clad buttocks.

"Stop that! We have guests for dinner," Susan flailed at Billy's goin and sounded annoyed.

"Is that an order ma'am?" Billy slipped his now fully tumescent cock between Susan's legs and pressed it into her pudenda.

He smiled when she gasped.

"We've no time for this Billy," Susan hissed.

The hiss was one of exasperation but also because Billy's glans had pushed the silky fabric of Susan's panties and pantyhose into her cleft. The fabric moulded to the shape of her clunge and her labia opened and Billy began to grind his cock against her clitoris and she couldn't deny that it felt wonderful.

Billy rested his hands on Susan's hips and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet delighting in the feel of Susan's pubis rubbing against his cock, her pantyhose and panties making an indistinct hissing sound as they rubbed together. The feeling of the gossamer garments on his turgid flesh was like angel's wings fluttering against a translucent veil.

"Billy!" Susan barked, her voice was hoarse, not with anger but with lust.

Billy pushed harder and pulled Susan's perky buttocks into his groin, grinding his throbbing cock into her sex. He could feel the moisture seeping into her gauzy panties as her vaginal secretions began to flow. Susan might be complaining verbally but she was pushing back against him and gyrating her buttocks.

"Jesus! Hurry up!" Susan's clitoris was diffusing little sparklets of pleasure that were beginning to coalesce and become a constant glowing ball of intense bliss.

The pressure of Billy's penis chafing her sex through her intimate garments caused her vagina to ache, invoking the need to feel his stallion-like cock inside her.

She reached around and snagged a red manicured fingernail in the crotch of her pantyhose and eased aside the gusset of her panties and guided Billy's hard phallus inside the hole in her pantyhose and nestled the crown of his manhood in her labia.

Billy pushed forward slowly; biting his lip in an effort not to orgasm as Susan's tight, moist, warm quim enveloped his cock. Susan tottered on her heels and her knees buckled as Billy's huge rampant penis entered her, filling her and bloating her vagina, invoking a powerful orgasm.

She gasped as Billy held her tightly by her hips and gyrated against her as his mammoth cock juddered inside her releasing his seed.

Billy felt Susan's quim clutch at his member and express his essence from his quivering penis. He held her upright, pressed against the vanity, driving his huge cock all the way inside her as Susan shuddered like an impaled gazelle, her long legs shaking, her buttocks quivering as a huge climax overwhelmed her senses.